


Legends

by Writers_Have_Their_Own_Set_of_Rules



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Bits from episodes after 5 included, Certain ones stand out to her, Coco adds some comic relief, Cordelia is the fucking Supreme :), Did they know this would happen?, Dreams & Memories, Even though AHS is over I'm still continuing this, Growing abilities, Implied Foxxay, Mallory regains and replays memories, Michael understands who Mallory is to him now, Scattered represenstative song lyrics, She and Michael come to terms with the status of their new "relationship, Snippets of Zyle (and finding out where Kyle went), So it's a mix of past and present, Spoilers! Just a heads up, Visions & Warnings, post 8x05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Have_Their_Own_Set_of_Rules/pseuds/Writers_Have_Their_Own_Set_of_Rules
Summary: Post 8X05: As Mallory begins to regain her memories, and Michael comes to terms with the fact that he (technically) almost made one of his sworn enemies an ally, they look back on signs that may have foretold their meeting. A meeting that could lead to either the end or the resurgence of humanity.





	1. Flickers

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm still sort of catching up on AHS, I've been trying to figure out the timeline in the past as best I can, so forgive me if I get some events out of order. Thanks!
> 
> Also who else agrees that at this point, having seen Episode 9, that Apocalypse needs a Part 2 in order to properly wrap up its storyline? I mean, we haven't even gotten back to the present! The witches and Michael are still standing there talking to each other as far as the show's concerned! I think the sneak preview for 10 has some snippets in the present, but I don't think it'll be enough to end this season right. And honestly I don't want time travel to be the cop-out for this season, I want a good final battle between Michael and the witches, and to see Mallory's powers strengthen to the point where she's a strong and worthy opponent to fight Michael! Fingers crossed that either Ep. 10 is 2 hours long or more, or Apocalypse continues into S9!
> 
> Song lyrics from "Young God" by Halsey, I would've called it that but someone already took that title so I wanted to avoid confusion XD. My first AHS work so please tell me what you think!

_"Forever cursed in love are the observant. Forever a slave to the detail."_

***************

 

Mallory was still in complete shock over the recent turn of events. 

First, she'd eaten an apple laced with a poison she couldn't detect.  She felt it eating away at her insides when she swallowed, and within the few minutes she had left alive, she struggled to puke it back up, but it was working too fast for her stomach to keep up.  Finally, she took peace in knowing she was leaving this broken world behind, and would reunite with her mother and grandmother on the other side.  With that final thought, she collapsed, white foam pouring out her mouth.

Then, just as she felt herself being pulled towards the peace of "the Light", Mallory felt a surge of energy wrap around her, pulling her with such force and speed that she could hardly register what was happening.  Next thing she knew, she was sitting up on the floor, gasping.  Coco, and another woman named Dinah, sat on either side of her, copying her movements.  Three women in black stood before the three victims, but for some reason, Mallory couldn't see them with her glasses on.  Once she took them off, the three women came into focus.  And much to Mallory's surprise, they all looked quite familiar to her.  Especially the woman in the middle, who introduced herself as Cordelia Foxx.  

 _Cordelia...I've heard that name before,_ Mallory realized. 

She claimed to have brought back her, Coco, and Dinah, and referred to them as her "sisters." Dinah seemed very chill about it, while Mallory and Coco were super-confused. Then Cordelia said something that changed life as Mallory knew it. 

She was a witch, who'd had an identity spell put on her to protect her.  And she wasn't just any witch, but the next in line for the Supreme, the queen witch. Currently Cordelia held that title, and good thing too, because being the Supreme suddenly meant that she would have to fight Michael, who was apparently the Antichrist.

Magic and its proud practitioners, the witches and warlocks, existed in the world.  As did the demons and monsters parents had warned their children about for centuries.  Mallory struggled to wrap her head around it all. 

But, strangely enough, it all made sense.  The powers Mallory displayed on two separate occasions in Michael's presence, the sudden demonic face that replaced his human one when she fought back, they all were connected.  Connected to the fact that neither Mallory, nor Michael, were human.

And looking up at Michael's smug face as he studied the five witches and one voodoo priestess (because apparently that's what Dinah was), Mallory realized something.

One minute he'd asked her to join him, the next he'd sanctioned her murder.

He must've discovered she was a witch even before she had, and as memories from her past life began to flicker to life inside her head, she realized something else.

The universe had been trying to warn her about this from the beginning. 

***************

_"I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool for a while now, drowning my thoughts out with sounds."_

 

Mallory didn't think she was special. Or at least, no more so than the other practicing witches at Miss Robicheaux's. But different? For sure.

Since she'd activated her powers, Mallory couldn't help but feel that something was off.  Something was coming, growing in strength and power, but she didn't know what it was.  She'd asked Cordelia's opinion about it, hoping that as the Supreme, perhaps she'd felt it too.  However, Cordelia just waved it off, promising her that if there WAS something, she would take care of it.  Besides, Mallory was still in training, so whatever it was, it was probably just nerves or apprehension regarding her abilities. She was disappointed by the answer, but as she left, she couldn't help but catch the look of concern that crossed Cordelia's face. 

When Mallory turned the rose blue, and then its petals into butterflies, she'd thought that that was pure luck.  That she'd unknowingly performed an extra step that made it happen.  No doubt some girls thought she was showing off, so she kept her excitement to herself, and only allowed a small, satisfied smile to cross her face.  But when she managed to revive that dead doe she found, she began to wonder if she truly was more powerful than she thought previously.  Especially regarding Myrtle Snow's amazed reaction upon witnessing it. 

That night, Mallory had grabbed a glass of water before bed, and as she passed by the mentors' meeting room, she heard her name being mentioned.  She knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but since they were talking about  _her_ , she allowed herself some leeway. 

"So she brought a deer back. All that could mean is that she has the same power as that backwoods hippie witch Michael _also_ managed brought back," Madison exclaimed. 

"Her name is Misty Day," Cordelia said sternly, "and don't forget he brought  _you_ back too Madison."

"Well, point is Cordy, we should keep an eye on Mallory, because it's clear, she's special," Myrtle said.

 _Special? Really?_ Mallory thought, allowing herself to get excited for a moment.

"I think so too," Zoe piped up. "Today, I caught her sitting in front of an empty fireplace.  I thought it was odd, so I stopped by for a minute to watch, and suddenly, after a few minutes, a roaring fire blazed within it.  She'd started the fire _with her mind_ _._ Then she just as easily put it out, and in the exact same way!"

Mallory heard some of the other murmur in surprise, but she just frowned.  _I thought I was alone when I did that,_ she thought. Oh well, more reason for her to eavesdrop on the mentors, since Zoe had apparently been spying on her earlier that day _._

"That  _is_ interesting," Cordelia mused, "however, we can't jump to conclusions about whether or not she could be the Supreme.  There's already strong evidence that it'll probably be Michael, but honestly, I'll be damned if I let this coven be infiltrated by a man.  Especially a man brought up by those asshole warlocks."

"So what are you saying, Cordelia?" Zoe asked. 

"Keep an eye on her, that's what I'm saying," she said. "I want more evidence of Mallory's abilities before we have her try out for the Seven Wonders, because last thing we need is a repeat of what happened to Misty." 

They all murmured in agreement.  Mallory was unsure what happened to Misty, but whatever it was, it sounded serious.  And it was making her nervous as a result.  

"Got it, follow Mallory around like a hawk to see if she's the next Supreme," Madison said. "Anything else? Or can we go to bed? Because I've had to catch up on a lot of sleep since coming back from Hell." 

Cordelia sighed. "Yes, you girls can go, but Myrtle, can you stay?"

"Of course Cordy," Myrtle replied in that soft, motherly way of hers. 

Mallory quickly went around the corner of the hallway, and peeked out as she watched Zoe, Madison, and Queenie leave and go upstairs.  Once she heard the satisfying 'click' of their bedroom doors, she returned to her hiding place outside Cordelia's door. 

"Michael's getting stronger, and the more tests he passes, the closer he gets to taking over my Supremacy," Cordelia said worriedly.

Mallory had only heard snippets regarding Michael Langdon, a man trained by the Coven's male rivals, the warlocks, and who they claimed to be the next Supreme.  She didn't know much further than that, but one thing was for sure; she'd never seen Cordelia so afraid. 

"But perhaps if we're lucky, it's true what the girls are saying, and Mallory could take his place," Myrtle assured her.

"We don't know for sure, but God I want that to be true," Cordelia said. "From the moment I met Michael, I felt that there something off about him.  It's some kind of dark power; a dark inheritance that's inside him and the more powerful he becomes, the more it grows.  So it's not just the fact that he's a man that makes me want to stop him from being the Supreme, but what he may become when he accesses his full power."

"And what do you think he'll be?" Myrtle wondered

"I don't know, every time I try to see what it could all mean, something blocks me out," Cordelia grumbled. "I don't know if it's Michael, or whatever gave him that dark power, but when I attempt to look further into his past, all I see is pitch-black darkness, and I can't find anything that tells me who he really is.  But there is _one_ disturbing detail that I catch sometimes." 

"What is it?"

"The distant, distorted sound of a baby crying," she said quietly.

Mallory shuddered suddenly.  She couldn't imagine how frightening that must be for Cordelia, knowing there was something powerful enough to kick her out of Michael's head.  As if the Coven didn't have enough things to worry about already.  Besides, the girls weren't properly trained if something like that suddenly chose to attack them.

On the other hand, she had a morbid curiosity to see that for herself.  An unknown force blocking out Cordelia's attempt to read Michael's mind? It sounded strangely exciting.  This was a force possibly more powerful that THE SUPREME, and she was the most powerful witch there was!  It was a freaky thing to consider, but it intrigued Mallory all the same. 

 _Oh stop it, now you sound like Madison,_ Mallory chided herself.  _This is_ serious. 

Suddenly, she heard Cordelia and Myrtle get up from the table, still talking but it was clear they would be leaving the room soon.  Satisfied that she'd heard enough, Mallory crept away and took the stairs two at a time to reach her room.  

Unlike some of the other girls who roomed together, Mallory had her own room.  Sure sometimes it got lonely, since roommates tended to become each other's confidantes (most of the time), but mostly she was grateful for the space.  She could stay up late reading without disturbing another girl's rest, she didn't have to jostle for time in the room's private bathroom, she could decorate the ENTIRE room the way she wanted instead of just half of it.  Mallory had been used to having her own space her whole life, and she was glad she didn't have to stop now.  Besides, she still had recurring night terrors, which frequently came and went since she was a child, and she didn't want a roommate who blamed her for sleep deprivation. 

She changed and climbed into bed, the conversation between Cordelia and Myrtle running around in her mind.  She knew for a fact that if such a force ever came for the Coven, she wouldn't be much help against it.  Mallory was still in-training for one thing, and she wasn't like the other witches. She wasn't brave like Zoe, who not only managed to kill a rapist, but with her pussy, in the middle of a hospital, and without getting caught.  She wasn't tough like powerful telekinetic Madison, which yes that made her a bit bitchy sometimes, but she could tell that since her resurrection Madison was working to become a better person.  And she certainly wasn't like Queenie, who used self-inflicted pain as a weapon of defense. 

Mallory knew that at a time like this, Cordelia would tell her not to compare herself to the other witches.  She was special in her own way, and would grow to be just as powerful, maybe more based on what they were saying earlier. 

With that final thought, Mallory drifted off.

*****

_Mallory was walking down an unfamiliar street, when she felt something pulling her in a certain direction.  An energy of some kind, and it was trying to show her something._

_Next thing she knew, she was standing in front of a house.  A beautiful old Victorian, surrounded by both a wrought-iron gate, and a horrifying history of darkness and despair. She picked up the courage to walk through the gate, and when she reached the front door, she swore she was being watched.  She glanced up towards the front window, and saw a shadow quickly disappear from view._

_She stepped over the threshold of the door, and was immediately met with a wave of overwhelming sadness.  This house...it was a prison.  A prison for a number of people, each from a different time period.  She recovered herself and gasped.  Standing in the middle of the room was a cradle, and she heard the soft coos of a baby coming from inside it.  Nervous, Mallory slowly approached it, and stared down at the child within.  It looked up at her with seemingly innocent little eyes, and just as Mallory began to calm down, assured that it was just a normal baby, it gurgled and began waving its fists in the air._

_And the house caught fire as a result._

_But when Mallory raced out of the house, she was even more terrified by the site she was met with._

_The rest of the world seemed to have caught on fire as well._

_The skies were a burnt orange, and smoke filled the air, making her choke.  The houses along the street no longer existed, charred black pieces littered the ground in their place.  Distant screams echoed from far away, as well as faint chants of "Hail Satan!"_

_Despite trying to convince herself this was nothing more than another night terror, Mallory knew better.  She was a witch, and things she was seeing felt way too specific to discount.  Could it be she'd developed the power of prophecy, much like her power of resurgence?  She silently hoped not, because she refused to believe that this was what the world would become._   _Especially not when the world had the witches and warlocks to defend it._

_"This can't be it," she said aloud. "The world can't end like this. There has to be someone to stop this from happening, right?"_

_Suddenly, bright white light began to consume both her hands, and then her entire body.  Power like Mallory had never felt before surged throughout her entire being, and then  she saw some of her fellow sister witches in a circle around her.  They all wore black cloaks with hoods on them, but despite that, she made out a few of their faces.  She recognized Madison, Coco, and Misty, but strangely, everyone else remained a mystery to her._

_"Rejoice!" they shouted in unison. "Our new Supreme is ascending! Rejoice! She will save this broken world!"_

_They continued to repeat the phrases, and as they did Mallory closed her eyes, feeling her powers multiplying and strengthening.  But then a dark laugh rang out, causing the witches to recite the chant faster, desperate to finish the ascension._

_Mallory opened her eyes and saw another cloaked figure standing nearby, watching the entire thing.  This one was clearly a man, and his cloak was black lined with red trim, and a silver, upside down pentagram rest on his chest._

_In the blink of an eye, he suddenly stood in the middle of the circle with Mallory, and in a flash he grabbed her neck, while her sisters continued to chant._

_"You cannot defeat me," he whispered smoothly. "You're better off joining me than fighting me."_

_"Never," Mallory hissed._

_"You'll change your mind soon enough," he promised, using his other hand to touch her brightly-lit face._

_And in the places where he'd touched, she felt heat.  But not heat like light, heat like fire.  Fire from the very depths of Hell._

_It shocked her enough to wake her up._

*****

Mallory gasped, sitting up in bed and catching her breath.  She was relieved when she saw that she was back in her room at Miss Robicheaux's, and despite her sleepy state, she turned on her beside lamp and grabbed a notebook and pencil from her nightstand.  She needed to remember everything she'd just witnessed.  Although her first instinct was to go tell Cordelia or one of the mentors, one look at her clock told her that wasn't a good idea.  It was best to record what she'd seen and tell them later.  She only hoped Cordelia would take it seriously, because Mallory had a strong feeling that her dream correlated with the growing danger she swore was coming to attack the Coven.  

In fact, maybe the "growing danger" was the cloaked man who infiltrated her ascension and burned her.

"Whoever, or whatever it is, I won't let it succeed," Mallory said, finishing the description of her dream. "Whether or not I'm the next Supreme, I'm going to put a stop to it."

Satisfied with her decision, Mallory turned off her light and lay back down, watching the change in her room's shadows as the moon continued to make its way through the sky.

*************

Looking back at it now, Mallory had no doubt that the shadowy threat she'd felt back then and the cloaked man from her dream were the same person.  And he had a name too.

Michael Langdon.

But the question was now, how was she able to envision the future Apocalypse before Cordelia could? As far as she knew, Cordelia's Supreme powers were well in tact, while Mallory's had only shown tiny peak signs of developing. 

What could she see it and Cordelia couldn't? What made Mallory's mind more open to seeing not only that vision, but the future ones to come? 

Maybe Michael had something to do with it.

Or perhaps, it was something more...celestial. 

 

*************

 


	2. A Worthy Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael recalls the one of the very few times he actually felt his father reach out to him, warning him that there was a threat strong enough to stop their vision from becoming a reality. And as it turns out she was right under his nose the whole time. However, his feelings towards her now are surprising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I watched the finale this morning. I wish Ryan had realized the places he could've taken these two *sigh*. No matter, that's what fics and videos are for!

" _The two of us are just young gods._

 _And_ _w_ _e'll be flying through the streets with the people underneath_

_And they're running, running, running."_

***************

_Then._

Michael cracked his knuckles over his desk, a notepad and pen sitting in front of him.  Miriam Meade watched him from the doorway, concerned.  She considered the young man a son to her at this point, so she couldn't help but watch out for him the way a mother would.  She noticed his unkept hair, the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before, and the dark circles under his eyes.  It was clear he hadn't slept last night.  

"Michael dear, may I come in?" she inquired.

Michael looked annoyed at being disturbed, but once he saw Meade, his face brightened up.  She was his most trusted advisor, and the closest thing he had to a motherly figure since his grandmother Constance died.  If he could consult anyone about his problems, it was her. 

"Come in, but please close the door behind you, I don't want anyone to hear what I'm about to tell you," Michael said. 

She nodded and swiftly shut the door.  Once she heard its satisfying 'click', she came to his side. 

"Michael, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I was up all last night trying to figure out to take out that meddlesome coven," he said irritably, "I've got forty ideas so far, but so many of them seem utterly ridiculous at this point."

"Oh I'm sure they're not that bad," Meade assured him. "Why don't you run some by me?"

"Fine, but don't judge me, because I was running on two hours sleep when I wrote some of these," Michael exclaimed, clearing his throat. "Number 17. 'Find a way to have sleeping pills slipped into all of their drinks at dinnertime, so they'll all be out like lights.  Then in the middle of the night, set the house on fire with all of them in it.' How's that one?"

"Needlessly complicated," Meade said honestly. "Because tell me Michael, how on EARTH do you think we're going to sleep pills into  _every single witch's meal_ and _without them noticing?"_

"No clue, but that was one of my more favorable ideas, so I hoped we'd think of something for it," he admitted. "But hearing it now, it IS ridiculous." He grabbed his pen and crossed it off the list. "How about this one? Number 32. 'Find the weakest among them, round them up, and blackmail Cordelia into surrendering.'"

Meade cringed. "It's a decent idea, but no offense Michael, it's super-cliché.  I've seen this done in the movies ALL the time.  Cordelia would play it off like she's surrendering, then have her girls go behind our backs and free the witches we took captive.  Besides, there's a protective barrier around that house, there's no way we'd get in."

"Son of a bitch, you're right," Michael groaned, crossing it out. "I seriously need to watch more movies, so I know what 'villain' clichés to avoid.  Okay, one more.  Number 24. 'It's clear the witches don't believe that I'm the next Supreme, and who knows, maybe they're right.  Maybe I'm more than that.  Find out who they think it REALLY is, keep an eye on her for a while, and if she proves to be almost as powerful as me, take her out.  Then the witches believe they have no successor.  And if we're right, they really won't." 

Meade nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, I admit, I like that one.  There ARE witches who leave the house to participate in the real world, so we could post eyes around all their most frequented locations.  We could even have some people watching the house, hoping to spot any of the witches using their powers in the backyard..."

"Yes, I knew you'd find one that worked!" Michael interrupted, excited.

"...However, there's one possible flaw to your plan," she admitted.

"Oh Hell, what is it?"

"Even if you're NOT the next Supreme, and even if we DO kill the one Cordelia thinks it is, won't the magical higher powers just choose another one in her place?" Meade asked.

"We don't know that they'll do that," he said, his excitement fading. 

"But we also don't know that they won't," she replied. 

"Ugh, this is so STUPID," Michael cried, getting up and throwing himself down on his bed. "I shouldn't BE like this, struggling to come up with ways to defeat the witches.  I should know all this already.  I should've been BORN with a plan to stop them.  Instead I'm desperately bouncing ideas off a pathetic mortal."

Meade took no offense with his comment.  She meant more to him than that and they both knew it; he was just angry.

"Michael, it'll do you no good dwelling on such depressive thoughts," she said. "Your idea is a good one, and we can still go through with it.  We may not know what the future will bring, but that doesn't mean we can't try.  I'll alert the others of the plan, but for now, you rest.  You clearly need it." 

That brought a smile to his handsome face. "Thank you Miss Meade," he said softly. "I'm lucky to have met you."

"Oh no Michael,  _we're_ the lucky ones," she said. "But you're welcome." With that, she turned on her heel and left.

Sighing, Michael turned on his side, and fell asleep, feeling more sure of himself as he did.

*****

_Michael..._

Michael gasped, sitting up in bed.  He had no idea how long he'd been asleep for, but that didn't matter.  Someone was calling for him.

"Hello? What is it?" he asked his bedroom door. "Meade, is that you?"

_Michael..._

He gasped again, realizing that the voice wasn't coming from the other side of his door.  He was hearing it in  _his head_.

"Who are you?" he asked aloud. "What do you want?"

_You know who I am...son._

Michael's eyes widened.  No...it couldn't be.  Could it? 

"Father? Is that really you?" he wondered.

_Lock the bedroom door so that no one may enter.  Then go into the bathroom so no one hears you seemingly talking to yourself._

He followed the voice's instructions, locking the door and then heading into the room's private bathroom.  He thought it best also to keep himself in the dark. 

"Father...I've waited so long for this moment," he whispered, feeling tears prick at the back of his eyes.

_As have I, but now is not the time for a heartfelt family reunion. We have important matters to discuss._

"The witches," Michael said. 

_Yes, I came to you because I knew you needed me._

"I have always needed you Father," Michael said. "What makes this time any different?"

_Because it is your destiny, and yours alone, to bring about the Apocalypse.  I'm not supposed to interfere, only observe._

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

_I know it doesn't. I didn't make the rules here, I just know that that's what must be done._

"Whatever," Michael replied. "I'm just lucky you're here now.  So are you here to tell me?"

_That you're right son.  You are NOT the Supreme.  You're more than those witches will ever be, and there is another destined to take the title._

Michael sat up, excited. "I knew it! Who is it, Father? Oh you must tell me!"

_Better yet, I will show. Go to the mirror my son, and let me do the rest._

Carefully he got up and went to the mirror, careful not to bump into anything on the way.  He stood in front of the darkened glass, seeing only his featureless shadow staring back at him.  Then suddenly, the image wavered, and a bright light shone through the mirror, causing Michael to shield his eyes.  

_Look inside Michael._

He looked back up into the mirror and gasped.  He could see Miss Robicheaux's as clear as day, as if he were looking out a window rather than a mirror.  Then, like a camera zooming in on a specific shot, the house came closer into view until Michael was seemingly inside.  The witches were moving about, talking and practicing their spells.  

"Is this all happening right now?" Michael asked in amazement.

_Yes, those silly witches have no idea that they're being spied on by you and me.  It makes this even more satisfying._

"Cool," he exclaimed, impressed. "Now where's Supreme Junior?"

_Patience my son, we must find her location first.  It's a big-ass house you know._

Then, like the fast-forward button on a TV remote, the images began moving in rapid succession as his father searched for the new Supreme.  Michael could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, his excitement rising again.  He was speaking to his father at long last, and he would finally have an answer to at least one of his many questions. 

_Yes! I found her!_

The image stopped, and Michael was staring at the back of a young woman's head.  She had wavy brown hair with blonde ends, a decorative gold headband resting on her head, and wore a lacy black dress.  

"Um, Father? I can't see her face," Michael pointed out. 

_Sorry Michael, this is closest I can get to her without rousing suspicion. Cordelia is in the room with her, and plus this witch has shown to be very perceptive._

Michael did his best to hide his disappointment. "Can you at least tell me a few things about her?"

_She was rejected by her family for her abilities, just like you were.  She's proven to have the power of resurgence, as well as some intriguing transformative powers.  I have no doubt she would pass the Seven Wonders if put to the test._

"At last, a worthy match," Michael said, pleased. "Tell me Father, does she know the full extent of who I am?"

_She believes only that you're the next Supreme, as do most of the other witches. Why?_

"Imagine if we could turn one of the witches to OUR side," Michael said, watching the back of the young woman's head. "She's still naïve to who I am, and unaware of how powerful she is.  Perhaps, if I play my cards right, I could show her where her loyalties SHOULD lie, and then boom! I have the new Supreme by my side when the Apocalypse comes.  Brilliant, right?"

_You're a fool, and still have so much to learn.  That woman has been there long enough to know that she's one of them, and nothing will change her mind I can promise you that.  Besides, I told she's a perceptive one.  She could sense your intentions from a mile away. You're not to go near her, do you hear me? You haven't reached your full power yet Michael, so it wouldn't take long for the her and the witches to destroy you.  It's not time for you to face her yet._

Michael clenched his teeth, hurt by his father's words while knowing full well that he was right.  "How will I know that it IS time?"

_Well for one thing, the Apocalypse needs to happen first, and I don't see the world covered in fire and carnage at the moment, do you?_

"Okay, okay I understand, but believe me when I say that I'm working on it," he said. 

_I know you are, and I'm sure the information I've provided you will make it happen even sooner.  Just to reiterate, you may watch the young witch, but I don't want you interacting with her.  It's too risky._

"Very well Father," Michael stated. 

_I'm afraid I've given you all that I could son, and now I must leave you.  You're on your own from here on out._

"No, please don't go!" he cried. "I mean, am I ever going to be able to speak to you again after this?"

_You might or you might not. I don't know, I've interfered enough already._

"No you haven't, you've been a big help to me! And I can't do this alone," Michael insisted.

_You're not alone my son. I'm always watching over you, and you have Miriam Meade and her crew by your side._

"You know about Miss Meade?"

_I do, and when you see her again, tell her thank you.  Thank you for being so devoted to me, and for helping you on your journey._

"I will do that," Michael whispered, hating that his father was leaving.

_Good-bye son, and remember: You're never alone._

With that, the image in the mirror disappeared, and Michael was once again engulfed in darkness.

"Father?" he said aloud. 

Silence.

"Until we meet again," Michael said.  Filled with newfound hope and clarity, he went back into his bedroom, cringing against the light shining through the curtains.  Only then was he aware of the incessant knocking on his door. 

"Michael? Michael are you okay in there? Please open the door!" Meade exclaimed.

He unlocked and then whisked open the door, and gave Meade a proud smile.

"Oh thank goodness, I've been out her knocking for fifteen minutes with no answer, I was getting worried about you," she said, exasperated.

"No need to worry my friend, I just spoke with my father," he replied serenely.

Her eyes grew wide like saucers. "No...are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he said. "He gave me the go-ahead on our plan to find the next Supreme, who he confirmed does indeed exist within the walls of that house.  He even gave me a hint as to what she looked like."

"Well what are we waiting for, Satan wants us to do it, then we must do it!" she cheered. "Come, come, we must tell the others!" 

"Wait," Michael said, grabbing Meade's arm before she could run off. "Father also wanted me to deliver a message to you personally."

"Me?" Meade asked, growing nervous. "He knows about me?"

"Sure does, and he wanted me to thank you for your devotion to him, and for being so willing to help me," he reported.

Meade gasped. "That...that's the nicest thing he could've ever said to me.  And you're sure that's what he said?"

"Would I lie about something like this?" Michael wondered. 

"No, I don't think you would, it's just...I never expected to be called out like that."

"Appreciate it while you have it, because he may never come to speak to me again," Michael muttered gravely. "He came only to give me a nudge towards the next Supreme and that was all."

"But by doing so, he showed how much he believes in you Michael," Meade assured him. "Take his faith in you to heart, and let it guide you on your way to your destiny."

"You always know what to say to make me feel better, don't you?"

"Well, I sure have been making an effort." 

Michael laughed and allowed her to lead him downstairs.  The conversation he'd had with his father was sure to keep him buoyant and positive for days, and he knew that the happier he was, the more faith Meade's followers had in him.

 _Watch out witches, Michael Langdon has plan_ , he thought to himself.  _And you're next Supreme, whoever she is? She won't know what hit her._

***************

_Now_

Michael studied Mallory's fearful yet understanding face.  He knew that she recognized him, knew now their opposing positions in this almost Biblical battle between good and evil.  He couldn't say that it didn't excite him, the idea of her remembering both her past, and all that happened between them.

He wondered how his father felt knowing Michael deliberately disobeyed him. 

Because Michael kept in mind that Father said this it was Michael's destiny, and his alone, to bring about the Apocalypse, and he wasn't supposed to be interfering.

Which meant he had the right to make his own decisions on how he wanted it to happen, and how he wanted to prepare for it. 

And one of his decisions involved the handling of the next Supreme. 

Because he knew that with just the right tweaking to her outlooks on both him and the witches, she would indeed become a worthy match for him.

But not in battle, in marriage.

The universe wanted them together so badly? Well then they would be, just maybe not in the way that it intended. 

Mallory was his, and he wouldn't have it any other way. 

****************

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you notice, I took a little inspiration from Episode 8 when Michael laid out some of his plans to Meade regarding how to defeat the witches. You know which part I'm talking about "...the plot of Omen 3? Is that where you're getting your ideas from?" XD. Then I added in the bit from Episode 10 when Mallory mentioned her parents' reactions to her powers for her background. And once again, I used lyrics from "Young God" by Halsey to help introduce this chapter. 
> 
> Anyway thank you for the wonderful reception on my first chapter! I did NOT expect to get so much attention and praise for it, but considering how charged up the AHS fandom is, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I hope you guys liked this one just as much if not more! Thanks for reading :).


	3. Bad Vibes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael proudly teases his and Mallory's history to the witches in the present, bringing Mallory back to the day she first met him...officially.

_"We both hope there's something._ _But we bo-both keep fronting._

 _And it's a closed discussion._ _And I'm thinking 'Damn if these walls could talk.'_ "

 

_Now._

"How can any of you defeat me, when I've already won?" Michael asked with a smirk.

The witches stood their ground, refusing to be intimidated.  Or at least, most of them did.  Coco tried to put on a brave face, and it was easy for her considering her anger towards being murdered, as well as her joy at rediscovering her magical roots. 

Mallory, on the other hand, was flipping through memories like a photo album in her brain, so she was seemingly staring into space and not paying attention.  But hearing Michael claiming he'd already won made her snap back to reality, and as soon as she looked up, his blue eyes were trained directly on  _her_ as he spoke his next line.

"You're remembering, aren't you?" he confirmed. "You're remembering us."

Mallory glared up at him, defiant. "I don't have to tell you anything," she exclaimed.

Michael just smiled. "You don't have to Mallory, I can see it on your face.  We have a history you and I, and you're finally beginning to recover it."

Cordelia gasped and turned towards her young student. "What is he talking about, Mallory?"

"Clueless as usual," Michael replied, shaking his head. "Ah well, proves just how good of a secret-keeper my Mallory turned out to be."

"She's  _not_ yours, asshole!" Coco snapped, stepping forward. 

"I beg to differ," he told Coco icily. "But in reference to what I said before, you'd be surprised by how much I know about Mallory that you all don't." 

Mallory sucked in a breath, feeling all eyes on her in that moment. 

"Michael this is ridiculous," Meade exclaimed from behind him. "What are we standing here talking for? Just kill them already and take your rightful place as master of all."

Michael shook his head. "Not yet...she needs to know the truth.  And preferably, without interruption."

Then, with a flick of his pointer and middle finger, Mallory collapsed.

"Mallory!" Cordelia exclaimed, running over to her.  She leaned over and gently clapped her face, trying to wake her up but to no avail. 

"What on Earth do you think you're trying to accomplish with her?" Myrtle wondered, calmly but coldly. 

"To show her true place in this this world...which is by my side," Michael said. "It was predestined. But I'll forgive your ignorance just this once, because even my father couldn't understand what the Universe had planned for us.  You see it's about time Mallory, as well as the rest of you, realized that memory spells do nothing to stop the hands of fate; it's the reason why after all this time we both ended up at this safehouse."

"Mallory, Mallory come on!" Cordelia exclaimed, struggling to break Michael's hold over her. 

But Mallory was no longer in Outpost 3.  She was back in her room at Miss Robicheaux's, waking from another mysterious vision. 

***************

Then.

_Mallory was back in the war-torn wasteland of her visions.  Only this time, she seemed to be in a beautiful meadow, untouched by the horrors of the Apocalypse._

_And HE was there with her._   _The hooded figure who'd appeared in each vision, trying to coax her into joining him._

_The more they interacted, the more Mallory wondered if these visions weren't possibilities, but were instead set-in-stone events set to arrive in the near future.  Her conversations with the hooded man felt too real to simply be associated with warnings at this point._

_"Why do you continue to fight me?" he asked, his arm snaking around her waist.  Her breath caught in her throat as goosebumps rose on her arms, and his fingers pulled back the hair from her neck, leaving traces of warm heat against her cool skin._

_Another worrisome part about these visions? Mallory was finding it harder and harder to resist him, and that scared her.  If she was indeed meant to be the next Supreme, and her duty was to save this broken world, what would happen if she joined this man who clearly wanted to snuff it out? Through the strength of their combined powers, would there be anything left to even call it a world anymore?_

_Mallory's fearful thoughts were vanquished though, as she felt the man's lips kiss the nape of her neck, and nothing but aching comfort and pleasure filled her mind.  The hooded man had grown bolder with each vision, and though he'd already laid his hands on her, this was the first time he'd touched her with his lips._  

_It both worried, and shamefully excited, Mallory to witness the different ways he tried to bring her to knees.  She'd found the strength to say 'no' each time, no matter how long it took her, so she rather enjoyed their little game.  Knowing she had some power over this depraved, merciless being; it was intoxicating to say the least.  But she never allowed herself to get cocky about it; because if there was one thing she about this man, it was that when he wanted something, he didn't stop until he had it._

_As if he'd read her thoughts, the man said "I'll go on forever if I have to Mallory, teasing and pleasing you this way. I have the power in these confrontations, for I am the persister and you are the resister.  The persister always has the upper hand, because we eventually find something the resister is unable to ignore, forcing them to give up the act and admit that they were wrong.  A child fighting with their parent, for example, can't help but admit that they are wrong if it means they lose special privileges, like watching TV or visiting friends. But boy do their put up a good front.  Fortunately for us though, it won't take much for me to convince you."_

_The hand not holding her waist began trailing up Mallory's right side, and she realized in horror that it wasn't touching the black lacy dress she wore._

_It was UNDERNEATH it, directly on her bare skin._

_"A woman and a man," he whispered seductively. "No more, and yet, no less."_

_"No...NO!" Mallory cried, throwing herself down on the ground and crawling away from the man and his twisted, delicious promise._

_She buried her hand in her hands and silently willed herself to wake up, praying that tonight's vision would end there._

_She was only vaguely aware that as she was struggled to wake herself up, another young woman was trying to do the same._

*****

"Mallory...Mallory c'mon, wake up!" Zoe exclaimed, gently shaking her shoulder. 

"What the..." Mallory whispered weakly, then her eyes popped open. "Oh...Zoe!" she cried, sitting up. 

"Good morning sleepyhead," she replied with a smile. 

Mallory blinked against the sunlight streaming into her bedroom, and gasped. "Oh no, did I oversleep?"

"I'm afraid so M, and you're late for your Potions & Elixirs class," Zoe said. "Misty was worried when you didn't show up, and the other girls admitted that they hadn't seen you at breakfast this morning, so when Misty reported your absence, I figured you were still in bed.  And sure enough, here you are."

"Wow, I'm sorry I worried everybody," Mallory said, glancing at her alarm clock. "And sure enough, it's because of something so stupid.  I forgot to set my alarm last night."

However, she knew WHY she'd forgotten.  It was because she was so focused on preparing for her impending vision that school, and being wake for it, had been the furthest thing from her mind.

"It's cool, it happens to everybody once in a while," Zoe assured her. "What matter is that you're safe." Then she frowned. "Speaking of which, I want to ask you something, but if I do, I want you to know that I'm not trying to pry."

"Um...okay, shoot," Mallory said. Zoe was her friend, and admittedly her favorite of all the mentors. She had a strong feeling what Zoe was going to ask her about, and if anyone besides Cordelia would listen, it was her. 

"Were you having another one of your visions last night?" Zoe wondered.

Bingo.

"Yes, I was," Mallory replied evenly, half-wondering if this was a trap.  Because she'd told Cordelia about her first vision, and how sure she was that it was a warning for the future.  Cordelia was concerned, and appeared to be taking it seriously as she hoped, but when she told Mallory to let her know if she continued to have them, Mallory chose not to.  Despite having visions for the past several nights since that first one, Mallory was too embarrassed to talk about them.  Because the first one had mainly centered around the Apocalypse, and Mallory's possible ascension as the Supreme, so Cordelia needed to be informed.  However, after that, they just revolved around the hooded man trying to convince her to join him, his persistence becoming more and more physical in nature.  They felt too personal, so Mallory chose to keep those to herself.  Besides, she managed to say no every time, so she didn't think it was a big deal right now.  She'd promised herself though that the moment she found herself saying yes would warrant an immediate counsel with Cordelia. 

If Zoe WAS asking on Cordelia's behalf, and Mallory told her the truth about her other visions, she'd immediately feel bad about keeping them a secret.  However, no one said she couldn't _stretch_ the truth...just a little bit.

"You feel comfortable telling me what happened in this latest one?" Zoe asked.

Her mind now made up, Mallory nodded. "Yeah, I think so." With that, she told Zoe about the pure, untouched meadow, and though she mentioned the hooded man asking her to join her again, she left out  _how_ he did it, as well as her sick enjoyment of it.  

"Whoever he is, he seems to be playing a vital role in the Apocalypse, and seems to know what I mean to become," Mallory concluded. "He knows how powerful the Supreme's supposed to be, and I have no doubt the reason why he wants me to join him is so he can exploit my powers and finish what he started." 

"You speak of him and the Apocalypse like they're set in stone, not just possibilities," Zoe commented, echoing Mallory's thoughts from her vision, and causing her to shiver.

Also, she seemed to be hinting at the fact that Mallory wasn't telling the whole truth, and she knew she needed to backtrack. "It's just a feeling I get when I have my visions, that's all." 

"Well, we can only hope they're not, but I appreciate you confiding in me," Zoe said, squeezing Mallory's hand.

"Are you going to tell Cordelia?" Mallory asked. 

"I was, but if _you_ want to be the one tell her then I'd understand," she replied. 

Mallory smiled, happy to have been given the choice.  However, given the fact that Zoe had come so close to finding her out, she knew Cordelia would do it in even less time. So because of that she said "No, it's cool. You can tell her Zoe." 

"Alright then," Zoe said, getting up, then she smiled. "I've taken up enough of your time, and you're already late as it is. Lucky for you though, Misty is pretty chill, so I'm sure she won't be upset." 

On her way out, she spotted one of Mallory's books on her nightstand. "'Alice in Zombieland' by Gena Showalter," she read aloud as she picked it up. "Does Alice actually get to fight zombies?"

Mallory nodded. "She's a real bad-ass in that version of the story," she explained.

Zoe became thoughtful. "Reminds me of the time I had to fight that horde of zombies on Halloween night a few years back," she said. "I had a chainsaw and everything, and it was one of the very few times I received genuine respect from Fiona Goode."

Mallory grinned, she remembered Coco telling her that story after she overheard it from a couple of other witches who were discussing it.  It just cemented Mallory's belief that Zoe was _easily_ one of the bravest among them. 

"That would've been awesome to watch," Mallory said.

Zoe laughed. "Believe me, it wasn't as fun as it sounds, I was terrified the whole time," she admitted, then she cleared her throat. "Okay now I'm  _really_ leaving."

Mallory smiled back as Zoe left, then closed the door behind her.  Despite how late Mallory was, she couldn't go to class without recording her vision, otherwise, it would bug her all day and distract her from her studies.  She grabbed her journal and wrote it down detail by detail, and she found herself replaying the hooded man's final words to her.

_"A woman and a man. No more, and yet, no less."_

She sighed deeply in spite of herself, but then immediately shook her head.  

"Wake the fuck up Mallory, and pull yourself together," she exclaimed aloud, the she groaned. "Maybe I SHOULD have told Zoe about the hooded man's persistence, maybe Cordelia would know how to make it stop.  Or at least, make me less reactive to it."

However, even as she spoke the words, she knew she didn't want that.  For the first time in her life, she knew how it felt to be in control and completely powerless at the same time, and it was an addictive feeling.  The man made her feel special, desired; and though she was frightened of the wicked pleasures he no doubt planned to bestow on her soon, they intrigued her all the same. And with all that came the excitement of a thrilling secret she couldn't share with anyone. 

"But it isn't YOU he desires," Mallory reminded herself. "It's your power, and what you can do with it. Never forget that."

Pursing her lips together, she abruptly stopped writing, and tucked her journal back into her nightstand, hiding it underneath all the books she kept on stand by to read on sleepless nights.  Then she got ready and dressed without giving last night's vision a second thought. 

*****

That is, until Mallory was outside in the backyard during break, and the summer breeze lifted strands of her hair and tickled her bare neck, and immediately she was reminded of the tender way the hooded man had touched her the night before.

Irritated, she decided to distract herself by practicing her newly acquired power of resurgence.  She walked around the yard, keeping her eyes peeled, until she found a dead dragonfly near the perimeter of the property, underneath a lantern that hung near the back garden. 

"Oh, poor thing," she said. "Must've thought it was the sun, though I was pretty sure it was just moths who did that sort of thing."

Shrugging, she gently picked it up in her hands, and concentrated all her energy on the dragonfly.  She imagined it zipping across the yard, the sunlight shining against its iridescent wings as it chased an unsuspecting mosquito.  

Suddenly, Mallory heard the steady beating of wings, and looked down.  The dragonfly was alive and well, but still, it sat contently in her hands, testing its wings. 

"You're free little guy," she told it, smiling. 

As if it understood her, it took flight after she spoke, zipping around her head and towards the front of the house. 

Only then when Mallory turned around did she notice she was being watched, and not by one of her sister witches.

A person dressed in all black stood camouflaged by the bushes that surrounded the property, and another stood near the corner of the property.  Mallory could even make out one standing across the street. 

Feeling nervous and hoping to avoid confrontation, she headed back towards the front of the house, until she felt something grab her and start pulling her away from it and towards an opening between the bushes that led to the street. 

Her mouth was covered so she couldn't scream out, and she struggled in vain against her potential captor.  Had they been discovered by witch hunters? Would they take Mallory captive and use her as bait? She couldn't bare the thought of the place she'd called home being ravaged, especially by humans who just refused to understand them. 

Suddenly, she felt her captor's grip loosen, and she was able to duck away onto the ground and re-obtain her focus.  She was about to scare him off with a sudden blazing fire at his feet, when she saw the man who tried to take her staggering away...in the middle of the street.  And another young man stood in his place. 

Mallory raised her hands towards the young man, ready to fight him back as well, but he shook his head.

"You need not fear me dear, because I'm one of you," he promised. 

Mallory blinked. "You're saying you're a warlock?"

"Yes indeed," he said.

"Prove it."

He chuckled. "You see that man who nearly kidnapped you in the middle of the street, looking confused as fuck? I made that happen," he stated proudly. "That good enough for you?"

Slowly, Mallory let her hands fall back to her sides. "You saved me?"

He nodded. "You're welcome by the way."

"Oh yeah, um...thanks," Mallory said, feeling shy. She swallowed it down and held her hand out to him. "I'm Mallory. And you?" 

"Michael Langdon," he answered, taking her hand and shaking it lightly. 

Mallory gasped, both because she couldn't believe she'd been saved by Michael Langdon, and because when their hands touched she swore she felt a small electric current go through her. 

"You're...you're Michael Langdon? As in, the next Supreme following Cordelia?" she asked in amazement.  Granted she wasn't sure at this point if that was still true or not, but since HE no doubt thought he would still be the Supreme, she thought it best to just go along with it. 

"Ah, so you've heard of me," Michael exclaimed, sounding pleased. 

"Oh for sure," she said, "all the witches have. The appointment of the next Supreme is a HUGE deal, especially since, for the first time ever, it's going to be a man."

"Well I must say, I'm flattered to know that you witches have talked about me," he said, sweeping a reddish-blonde curl over his ear. "But may I ask, what were you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Getting some air, and besides, it's such a beautiful day out, I wanted to enjoy it," Mallory explained. 

"But isn't it dangerous? Someone could just as easily pluck you off the property, and because there's so many of you, no one would even notice your absence," Michael stated smoothly. "That could've happened to you had I not show up just in time."

Mallory glared at him. "Of course my sisters would notice me gone, in fact, I'll have you know that they noticed when I wasn't in class this morning, and it was just because I overslept. Besides, even if I  _were_ kidnapped, I can take care of myself." 

Michael waved his hands in front of him. "Forgive me, I misspoke...and because of that I have offended you," he apologized. "I'll leave you now."

He started walking away, but Mallory sighed. "No, stop, you don't have to leave," she said quickly, and he turned back around to look at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so defensive. Did you come here to talk to Cordelia?" 

"And I'm sorry for being insensitive," Michael replied. "Yes I did, in fact.  But hold on, I need to grab something from my car." 

He raced over onto the street to a black Sedan that Mallory no doubt figured was a gift from the warlocks.  She was also happy to see that Michael's rescue caused the other black-clad people would had been watching her to retreat.  While she was looking around, she suddenly noticed Misty Day standing nearby, watching her.

"How long have you been standing there?" Mallory wondered.

"I heard the commotion outside so I came to see what was up, and saw you talking to the Langdon boy," Misty said in her Cajun drawl. "And I want to advise you to stay away from him."

"What? Why? He seems nice to me," Mallory exclaimed.

Misty shook her head. "Cordelia's afraid of him, and the things he's capable of, and I ain't ever seen her afraid of nobody.  And I think she might have a good point; I get too many bad vibes when I'm near him.  Seriously...it's off-the-charts." 

Mallory just smiled.  Of course Misty was siding with Cordelia on this. Though they'd never admitted it out loud, they didn't need to, because it was clear they had a, quote on quote, 'thing' going on between them.  They had great chemistry when they were together, and Cordelia always seem to light up when Misty entered a room.  Plus, Madison had once made a point of mentioning how devastated Cordelia was when they lost Misty during the Seven Wonders.

"Her reaction was similar to that of losing a loved one," Madison had said. 

Now granted Cordelia considered all the witches as part of her family, but since Mallory had seen the two of them together and how much they clearly cared about each other, she had a feeling Madison meant 'loved one' as in 'boyfriend/girlfriend.' 

"Well, before you got out here, Michael actually saved me from being kidnapped by possible witch-hunters," Mallory declared.

Misty's eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God, witch-hunters? Here? We have to tell Cordelia!"

Not wanting her to panic, Mallory quickly backtracked. "I mean, they MAY have been witch-hunters, but I don't know for sure."

Misty calmed down. "Oh, okay, but you should still tell her you were almost kidnapped," she suggested. "She needs to know that the shield needs to be stronger, to protect against possible human threats as well."

Mallory nodded, and before she could open her mouth, Misty spoke up again.

"Look, do what you want with Michael, but he still gives me the creeps," Misty said. "And the fact that Cordelia has her doubts about him should keep you on your guard.  He may have brought me back to life, and despite how much I appreciate the second chance, that doesn't mean I think he can be fully trusted."

"I understand, and I will, believe me," Mallory promised.  Suddenly, Michael reappeared with a scroll in his hand. 

"Oh, hello there Misty," he greeted Misty politely. "Enjoying life?"

"I am Michael, thank you," she answered. She gave Mallory a look of final warning, then said "It appears you two were in the middle of something, so I'ma just get going." With that, she skipped back inside the house. 

"Shall we go speak to Cordelia?" Mallory wondered. 

"Of course...Mallory," Michael said, his voice smooth like silk as he said her name.  It sent shivers down her spine, and briefly reminded her of the hooded man from her dream, but she quickly brushed it off. 

Michael watched as Mallory headed inside, and he was a few paces behind her until he noticed the dragonfly that he'd seen her resurrect earlier.

Smiling darkly, he subtly turned his hands, which were by his side, into fists, and watched the dragonfly suddenly burst into flame midflight, then fall to the ground as nothing but smoke and ash. 

Mallory had no idea the evil she was allowing not only into the house, but into her life.  And Michael would make sure she never found the will to let it go.

***************

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from "Walls Could Talk" by Halsey.
> 
> Oh boy...Mallory has officially met Michael, and though he low-key reminded her of the hooded man from her dreams, she has yet to make the connection! Plus, she got to have some meaningful conversations with both Zoe and Misty, the latter which led to implied Foxxay :). Hope you liked Mallory's feelings regarding her vision, as well as the Millory parallels I displayed with that dragonfly! Thanks for the supportive comments and kudos, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving :). Love, W.


	4. Something There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's protectiveness over Mallory rears its ugly head in the present...while in the past, Mallory allows herself a night of freedom with the next Supreme, but doesn't expect the consequences that follow.

_"There's something in the shadows. No one has to know._

_The truth is in the gallows. It'll burn but won't let go._

_A whisper in the darkness; in the quiet, it'll grow._

_You try to hide it in the farthest place, but everybody knows."_

 

_Now_

The memory of her first meeting with Michael ended, and as it did, Mallory suddenly sprang awake. Cordelia had finally freed her from Michael's hold...for the time being, anyway.  

"What the Hell do you want from me?!" she snapped at Michael, fury and anger in her eyes. "What are you gaining from toying with me like this?"

Michael made a face. "Your understanding, that's all I wish to gain," he said. "I had it once already, then I lost it when that stupid fucking memory spell was placed on you.  But all of that has changed...you are here now, and I'm  _not_ losing you again."

The witches heard the threatening tone in his voice, and immediately came to stand in front of Mallory (Dinah hung back, refusing to get involved).

"You'll have to go through  _us_ first," Madison exclaimed. 

"Challenge accepted," Michael hissed. "But I'm surprised _you're_ so willing to fight me Madison, when it means risking the life I gave back to you." 

"Actually, it was Cordelia who gave it back to me, because it was  _her_ idea," Madison stated. "You were just the delivery boy." And with all her might, she threw a telekinetic push at Michael, throwing him back against the wall and disorienting him. 

"You guys go, get Mallory out of here," Madison ordered, "I'll hold him back as long as I can." 

"Madison..." Cordelia started.

Madison gave her a grateful look. "Thank you for giving me the chance to become a better person," she said honestly. "Now let me re-pay that kindness. GO!"

Quickly, Coco helped Mallory to her feet and the witches raced out of the room. 

Michael got up as well, his eyes shooting daggers at Madison. "You're a fucking bitch, you know that?" 

"Believe me, I've heard that one PLENTY," she replied. 

She was about hit him with another push, but this time he was ready.  He counteracted her spell by lifting her high up in the air.

"Normally, I'd kill you nice and slowly, enjoying every minute of it," Michael told her. "But I have more  _important_ matters to attend to at the moment."

"You're not seriously going to leave me up here, are you?" Madison snapped. 

"Certainly not," he said, then his mouth quirked up in a smile. "At least, not suspended in mid-air like that." Then he whisked her further up in the air, then laid her on her stomach across the Outpost's high ceiling rafters.

"Hope you're not afraid of heights, because you're going to be up there for a while!" Michael called up to her, laughing.

"Fuck you!" Madison shouted back, flipping him off and struggling to adjust her position. 

Still chuckling, Michael strode out of the room with Meade close behind.

*****

The witches were running about through the Outpost's maze of hallways, and were shocked by the amount of dead bodies they were finding.

"Dear God, what did Michael DO here?" Myrtle exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Killed every last one of us, that's what," Coco said, "that is, until you guys showed up." Then she let out a groan as they reached another dead end. "Jesus Christ, I'm half-expecting the Minotaur to show up in this place!" That garnered her a few looks from her sisters. "What? Mythology was one of the first things I studied up on when I found out I was a witch, and I ended up really liking it."

Mallory moved up ahead. "Hey guys, let's turn up here!" she suggested. She made a left turn around the corner, and a knife met her stomach in response. 

"It should've been  _me_ on that list," the bowl-haired cut man hissed at her.

Mallory stumbled backward, grasping her stomach, and Coco screamed when she saw what happened.

"Oh God...no no no!" Cordelia cried, racing to Mallory's side. 

"Mal, you got to stay with us, we can't lose you now!" Coco exclaimed, grasping her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry...I failed you all..." Mallory whispered weakly. 

The four of them heard footsteps coming toward them, and they all looked up.  It was Michael. 

"Come to finish the job then have you?" Coco asked him, tears streaming down her face. "Hate to break it to you, but that guy over there did most of the work for you!" She gestured to the man who stabbed Mallory, who was watching the whole exchange, and his eyes widened in fear when he saw Michael's stone-cold poker face staring past the witches and right at him.

"How  _dare_ you hurt her when I've expressly forbidden it, Brock," he hissed. 

"I was the one you got here, and I was the one who brought your precious Satanist advisor back to you," Brock said, gesturing to Meade. "And yet all you cared about was that Gray over there.  What has  _she_ ever done for you?"

"More than you will ever know," Michael said softly. "But I'm afraid you won't get a chance to to hear that story." 

First, he waved his hand and froze all the witches, minus Mallory, in the places where they stood.  Then he concentrated his gaze on Brock.  His eyes turned black, and Brock couldn't tear his eyes away from the fearsome sight before him.  And with a twitch of Michael's head, Brock's neck broke with a loud snap, and he crumbled to the floor. 

Satisfied with the deed, Michael rushed over to Mallory's side. "Oh Hell," he whispered when he saw how much blood she was losing.

"Get...away...from me," she muttered irritably. 

"Mallory, I'm trying to help you," he insisted, trying to put his hand over her wound but she weakly slapped it away. 

"Screw...you. Don't...touch me," she said. 

Michael shook his head. "If you think I'm letting you die on me tonight, you're wrong."

Quickly losing her strength to fight back, Mallory let him place his hands over her wound.  He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, and suddenly, the blood from Mallory's wound was sucked back into her stomach, as if he were reversing time without actually touching it. 

Mallory gasped as she watched, feeling her strength slowly returning.  But by the time he was finished, she still felt weak and woozy. 

"It's alright, it's normal to still feel weak afterwards, because all that blood's still being returned to the circulation," Michael told her, reading her confused expression. Then he smiled upon seeing the frozen witches. "Finally, some time alone."

Mallory shook her head. "I don't understand how or where you learned to do that, but that doesn't mean I'm any more keen to trust you," she told him.

"I figured as much," he said. "You haven't seen enough from your past yet.  But that's okay, I'll get you back to where you were with me before the spell, no matter HOW long it takes me."

Then, without warning, Michael leaned in and kissed her squarely on the lips.

Mallory froze, rapture creeping through her body but she forced herself to hold back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of how good...no, how  _right_...it felt to be kissing him like this. 

She felt another memory begin to rise to the surface in response to the kiss, demanding for her to re-live it.  Falling back in Michael's arms, she rested her head on his shoulder as he scooped her up and carried her away from the scene, losing the will to fight back.  Frankly, she was admittedly curious to find out about this supposed history that she shared with Michael, and each piece that came back to her made her more and more eager to see it all play out.  

With that final thought, she mentally sunk into the memory's warm embrace.

***************

_Then_

Madison opened the door to the room she shared with Zoe, wrapped in her fuzzy bathrobe and clearly in the middle of drying her hair.

"This is better be important, because my hair's still half wet," Madison said irritably. "It takes work to look this good, you know."

Mallory nodded. "It is, because I was told that you were the best person to go to in terms of advice on how to date and how to dress for it."

Madison's eyes suddenly lit up. "Fashion? Boys? Hell yeah you've come to the right place, come on in!" 

She stepped back, waving her arm about the room as she invited Mallory inside.  Mallory whistled softly.  She almost couldn't tell that two very different witches lived in this room.  The set-ups on either side were so cohesive and complimented each other wonderfully. 

"Wow, your room looks fantastic!" Mallory exclaimed. 

Madison shrugged nonchalantly. "Zoe and I make it work," she replied. "Now enough about me, let's talk about  _you_ and this mysterious date you're going on." Then she giggled. "Boy, I'm still not used to saying stuff like that."

"What? Me being on a date? Or steering the conversation away from yourself?" Mallory wondered. 

"Both," Madison answered, then she smiled. "I'm kidding, just the latter."

Mallory breathed a sigh of relief and settled herself in the white wicker chair Madison had set up in front of her vanity table.  Madison sat down on her bed and looked at Mallory quizzically. 

"Okay, first things first, who's the guy?" Madison inquired, the sides of her mouth quirking up with intrigue. 

Mallory took a deep breath. "MichaelLangdon," she said quickly.

"Whoa, hang on, did Hell somehow fuck up my hearing? Because I swear it just sounded like you said Michael Langdon was your date tonight," Madison exclaimed. 

Mallory nodded sheepishly. "Your hearing's fine Mads, I'm going out with Michael."

"BITCH NO WAY!" she cried, hopping off her bed. "Oh boy...I...I need to chew on something." She raced over to her nightstand and pulled out a small box of Mike & Ike's. 

She returned to the bed and popped a little red chewable tablet into her mouth. "I can't smoke in here, Zoe hates the stench it leaves. Besides, I've been trying hard to quit so I can ensure that my second life isn't cut short by cancer at least.  So I resorted to candy, but don't tell Cordelia; we're not supposed to have food in our rooms."

"Your secret's safe with me," Mallory promised, crossing her heart. 

"Alright, now that that's been taking care of, tell me," Madison stated, grabbing a pink tablet from the box, "how  _exactly_ did this date with Michael Langdon come about?" 

With that, Mallory launched into their whole meeting from this morning.  How Michael saved her from being taken by potential witch-hunters, and though Cordelia looked thoroughly displeased at the fact that they'd been interacting, she was still genuinely thankful for his help in rescuing her.  Plus, while Michael was delivering his message, Mallory, who'd been allowed to stay because Michael convinced her it wasn't a private conversation, couldn't help but notice that he kept stealing glances at her as he spoke.  Then, once matters were taken care of, Michael escorted Mallory out of the room, and, feeling brave, Mallory straight up asked him if there was anyway she could re-pay him for helping her earlier.  Michael's blue eyes twinkled in excitement, and he said to her:

"Let me help you live a little by taking you out on a date tonight."

Mallory was speechless for several seconds, unsure of what to say.  It'd been the first time anyone had asked her out since coming to the Academy, and she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"C'mon Mal, don't leave me hanging here!" Michael had exclaimed, his apprehension and excitement making Mallory wonder if it was his first time asking a girl out since becoming a warlock. 

And with that last comforting thought, Mallory smiled and agreed.

Of course that's when she realized she had no idea how to prepare for it.

"And that's how you ended up here at my doorstep," Madison concluded, and Mallory nodded. "Well then, you can bet that I'm gonna ensure you look your absolute best tonight!"

She came over to Mallory's side, and looked her up and down, playing with her hair and even tracing the shape of her figure in mid-air.  "Hmm, lucky for you, I think I may already have the perfect outfit for you!"

"Really? Just like that?" Mallory asked, amazed.

"Of course!" Madison said, heading to the closet. "Have a strong fashion sense as long as I have and you can figure out perfect looks within seconds!"

She rummaged through several hangers until she found what she was looking for, and whisked it out. 

"What do you think?" she wondered. Mallory didn't know what to say.

The dress was slim and form-fitting, and ended just past the knees.  It was black with several gold embellishments as well as a sparkly gold belt around the waist, and a thin pair of spaghetti straps.  Not waiting for answer, because she could already tell Mallory loved it by her face, Madison tossed her the dress and went back into the closet. 

"And here we are, the perfect pair of shoes to go with it!" Madison announced, holding up a pair of strappy gold platform sandals. "Now we just need the right jewelry and make-up to complete the look, and you'll look absolutely ah-mazing!" 

Mallory giggled at Madison's enthusiasm and shook her head. "Why are you so eager to help me with this?" she couldn't help but wonder. 

"Well for one thing, it's one of many things helping me to feel normal again, and I can almost forget that I've spent time in Hell twice now," Madison explained. "And in terms of you and Michael, I appreciate the underlining rebellion behind it.  Even though this place is the closest I've ever had to a home, the constant Goody-Two Shoes nature of it is so damn  _nauseating._ Why do you think I'm known for causing trouble in the early days? Because not only am I a rebel by nature, but it was my attempt to keep shit interesting, otherwise I probably would have lost it."

"I'm not trying to be rebellious though," Mallory admitted. "I just owe him for saving me."

"Potato, patato," Madison replied. 

"What?"

"What I mean is, that may be the case, but Cordelia's still against any of us hanging around him, so you accepting a date from is still a small act of rebellion, no matter which way you slice it," she said. 

Mallory nodded slowly.  She couldn't argue with THAT logic.  And honestly, the thought of being rebellious, even in this small, seemingly insignificant way, actually felt really exciting to her. 

Madison suddenly cocked her head at her. "Mallory, what do I still see the dress in your hands and not on your body?" she asked with a frown. 

"Oh, right, sorry about that," she apologized quickly.  She took the dress and went over to the colorful screen that Madison had set-up in the corner of the room. 

Within minutes, Mallory was all dressed up, and she swallowed hard, expecting Madison to be a harsh critic as she stepped out. 

"Holy crap," Madison exclaimed.

"Oh God, I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"What the Hell are you talking about? You look... _ravishing_ ," she stated, drawing out the last word as if she were teaching it to a child. 

"I do?" Mallory asked, hardly believing it.

Madison sighed and came to Mallory's side, gently taking her by the shoulders and bringing her over to the full length-mirror on the wall.

"Listen Mal, you're a pretty girl with a nice figure, and it's clear nobody made you aware of that until now," Madison elaborated. "Or at least, not for a long time anyway. Besides, Michael's a good-looking guy, and I could sense that he's not the type to taking dating lightly.  Between you and me, I think he's a bit arrogant about his looks, but at least he's not a total ass about it.  So when he asked you out the way he did, he didn't do it because you owed him.  He did because he thought measured up to his standards, and you were special enough to clear up some of his time for.  So take pride in that Mallory, because I highly doubt he does that for just anyone."

Mallory was taken back by Madison's words. "How exactly did you get all that from your interaction with Michael when he rescued you?"

"Believe me, when you spend what feels like an eternity in Hell talking to the same fake-as-fuck people, you'll be begging your witch-y senses to get you to understand someone as much as you can, no matter how short the interaction," Madison exclaimed. "Now, slip on those shoes while I get your jewelry and make-up together." 

*****

Mallory never thought of herself as beautiful, or as Madison put it,  _ravishing_. Not until she saw Michael's face when Madison opened the door for him at precisely five o'clock, and his eyes seemed to watch her every move as she made her way down the front stairs. 

"Hey, you made it!" Madison said to him, pleased. "In my mind, a date is never a done deal until the guy actually shows up for it."

"Odd logic, but whatever you say Madison," Michael responded, his eyes never leaving Mallory as she walked over to him.

Seeing how distracted he was, Madison threw her arm around Mallory, gently pulling her forward. "Doesn't your date look  _gorgeous_? No need to thank me for making it happen though, because she pulls it off _wonderfully_ by looking the way she does."

"Oh good, because if you took all the credit for her look, I might as well have been going out with another version of  _you_ ," Michael replied, and Mallory stifled a laugh while Madison pursed her lips together, unsure how to take it. 

"Well...you two go on and get out there, before too many people notice that she's gone," Madison said quickly. "And I want her back at precisely ten, you got it?"

"What are you, her mother?" Michael asked, smirking. 

"Her wing woman, more like," Madison countered. "Now go on,  _get_!" 

Michael unexpectedly linked his arm in Mallory's like a gentleman, and led her out the door as Madison closed and locked it behind them.  As Mallory shivered in the thin black sweater Madison gave her, she couldn't help but get the feeling that they were being watched.  She glanced back towards the house, and nearly gasped when she saw who was watching them. 

It was Cordelia, peering at them through a second-story window, and she wore an unreadable expression on her face. 

Was that...fear?

*****

"Two under the name Michael Langdon, of course," the waitress exclaimed when they arrived. "Right this way, please."

Mallory looked around her in amazement as she led them to a cozy window table in the corner of the dining room.  Michael had insisted on taking her to Compere Lapin, an upscale restaurant that offered all sorts of Caribbean and French dishes tinted with New Orleans flair.  The walls were mainly brick, with wide, full-length windows that made the place feel very open and inviting.  Various paintings decorated the walls, and as they sat down, Mallory tried to catch sight of each one she noticed. 

A landscape of a wheat field blowing in the wind as the sun dipped low in the sky.  A vibrant close-up of a orchid.  A portrait of what she assumed to be the artist's mother.  But one particular painting seemed quite eerie to her.  It was an abstract decorated in very dark hues, black and red and deep purples.  And despite all the random shapes and designs that surrounded it, a very distinct blue eye seemed to stare at her from its position across the room.  Weirded out, Mallory turned her attention back to the waitress, who was asking about drinks.

"Glass of chardonnay for me, please," Michael requested, then he turned his attention to Mallory. "I'm assuming you've never had any, so would you like tonight to be the night that we change that?"

Mallory knit her eyebrows together, considering, then she smiled. "Sure, why not. Two chardonnays please."

"Wonderful!" the waitress said happily. "Here are your menus, and I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You want to share their chilled oysters as an appetizer?" Michael asked her. 

"Sure, why not," Mallory said, not looking up. "Wow, they certainly got some unique choices here.  Have you ever been here before?"

"I came here with my friend Meade once before," Michael answered. "She's one of my most trusted confidantes, and the closest anyone's come to filling the void after my grandmother died."

"Oh I'm sorry," Mallory said. "Was she the one who raised you?"

"Yep. Mother died giving birth to me, and I've only had contact with my dad once in my entire life," he exclaimed. "My grandma was the only family I really had, and I know I was tough to handle, but I didn't how tough until my powers came in.  That was a real eye-opener for me."

"Why? If you don't mind me asking that is."

"Because she ended up committing suicide just to get away from me," Michael admitted softly, putting his menu down and looking sad.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Mallory apologized, shocked by the news. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no, I'm good, really," he replied, putting on a brave face. "Things have gotten better since I found my place with the warlocks, and a home with Meade.  So I'm fine, honestly."

"If it's any consolation, I know what it's like to feel abandoned because of your powers," she brought up. 

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Do tell...if you feel comfortable, that is."

"My parents thought my powers were the work of the Devil, and were  _this close_ to getting an exorcism done on me, until we received the letter from the Academy detailing my magical background on my mother's side," Mallory stated. "Thankful it wasn't the Devil but still in fear of my abilities, they shipped me off as fast as humanly possible, and I haven't spoken to them since."

"Oh wow, that's horrible," Michael remarked. 

"But things got better for me too, because the Coven is my family now, and the only one I really need," she said.

Michael smiled. "Well good for you Mal, I'm glad you're not unhappy."

"You too," she replied. 

After they spoke, their eyes focused steadily on each other, and they couldn't help but notice the strong magnetic pull that existed between them.  It was the reason why they were here at this restaurant, telling each other snippets of their tragic pasts, which was quite unlike either of them.  Mallory couldn't help but think of the blue eye of the painting hanging across the room.  She felt like it'd been staring straight into her soul, and she got the same feeling as Michael's blue eyes watched her with dark, eager curiosity. 

They said the eyes were windows to the soul, and she knew that Michael was looking directly into hers, as she was with his.  She sensed darkness in him, that was clear as day, and she knew she should be frightened, but there was something else too.  A certain longing that she doubted he understood fully; a longing to have someone who shared in his strength and amount of power.  Because it was one thing to be destined to have great power, it was another to know how to use it and what to do with it.  She wasn't sure whether such power stemmed from being the next Supreme or something else entirely, but whatever it was, he seemed scared of it and its capabilities.  As a result, he was a lot lonelier than he let on, and that loneliness and desperation seemed to almost outweigh the darkness. 

In Michael's mind, the amount of light and purity in Mallory's dark brown eyes made him dizzy, and it made him want to tear his gaze away.  But everyone had dark places that they hid in the back of their minds, and seemingly innocent Mallory was no different.  He could sense it in her, but he couldn't quite see it yet, because she'd hidden it well.  Perhaps, if he was able to draw it to the surface, he could use it to his advantage by showing her that that was who she really was inside.  And once she realized that, she'd be drawn further away from Cordelia's little Girl Scout troupe and more prone to taking her rightful place by his side.  

 _You're not alone,_ Mallory's voice seemed to say in his head.

 _Neither are you,_ Michael seemed to respond in hers. 

The shock of those unspoken words was enough to wake them up from each other's hypnotic hold.  That, and the waitress's hand which was waving in both faces. 

"Hey lovebirds, you two ready to order?" she asked, smirking. 

"Of course we are, right dear?" Michael exclaimed, being the first to recover. 

"Y-Yes, me too," Mallory replied, shaken up from those bizarre several moments, as well as the waitress referring to them as "lovebirds."

They both ordered their appetizer and individual meals; Michael got Adobo Pork Tenderloin, and Mallory wanted Scialatielli (a type of linguine-like pasta); and the waitress took their menus and hurried away, throwing them one last smirk as she did.

Michael turned his attention back to Mallory, and she dared to do the same with him.

But it was too late; the spell was broken. 

*****

"Mallory, can we talk?" Cordelia asked, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Mallory, who'd returned from the date feeling both giddy and confused, looked up in surprise as light flooded the central hallway, and Cordelia sat in one of the arm chairs, clearly waiting for her. 

"Um, sure," she said, knowing better than to argue with Cordelia, especially when there was no need to.  

She came over and sat across from the Supreme, feeling apprehensive as she anticipated what Cordelia was most likely going to bring up. 

"So, I see you went on a date with Michael Langdon, when I have expressively stood against having close contact with him," she observed, her voice even.

Mallory bit her lip. "Yes, I admit, I went out with him, but only because I owed him for helping me this morning," she admitted, though she knew perfectly well it wasn't about owing favors anymore.  Especially since Michael asked before she came in if he could see her again. 

"And? How did it go?"

Cordelia's question surprised her, but Mallory responded as casually as she would have if it were Madison asking her. "Really well actually, he's a nice guy.  Mysterious, sure, and yeah a little intimidating, but surprisingly he chose to open up to me about his past.  He's been through a lot more tragedy then one would think." 

"Is that so?" Cordelia wondered, nodding slowly. "And what did he tell you?"

Mallory cringed. 

"Is there a problem with me asking that?"

"No, it's just...I don't think he's the type of guy to open up about that kind of stuff on a regular basis, and I don't want to betray his trust," Mallory confirmed. 

"Understandable, and I would accept that kind of answer if you were speaking of one of our sisters," Cordelia said. "However, this is Michael Langdon were talking about here, and not only is he with the warlocks, but we know almost next to zero about his background, so in this case, I have every right to know what he told you."

Mallory swallowed.  Seeing how she had no choice at this point, she regretfully explained the absence of Michael's parental figures, and the tragic death of his grandmother.  

Cordelia nodded. "Tragic indeed," she said, "but is that all?"

"Probably not, but that's all he was willing to share with me," Mallory answered. 

"And has he asked to see you again?"

"Yes."

"Then there may actually be a silver lining to this," she said, smoothing out the pencil skirt she wore and leveling Mallory with a serious look. "I guess we can use this whole 'going out with Michael' ordeal to our advantage."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to see him again Mallory," Cordelia exclaimed, surprising her. "I won't like it, but it seems to be the only way we can learn anything about him at this point.  After each time you're with him, I want you to make a mental record of everything he tells you about himself, or things you figure out about him just by his actions and reactions.  Then when you come back, immediately report to my office.  Is that understood?"

Mallory's eyes widened. "So I'm going into the next date not as myself, but as a spy?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but forgive me for being overly-concerned on this point," she apologized. "As I'm sure it's been made clear to you, Michael, and the things he's capable of, worries me greatly, and I want to prepared in case those fears are confirmed to lead to something horrible that threatens the Coven.  You get it, right?"

Mallory sighed; she couldn't argue with _that_ logic. "Yes, I get it Miss Cordelia.  I'll be your informant on Michael."

Cordelia smiled warmly. "Thank you for agreeing to this Mallory. You're excused."

Mallory gave her a polite nod and headed upstairs to bed, thankful she hadn't brought up the strange period of time where she was reading Michael's soul.  It was best to keep that to herself for now, just like with the hooded man from her visions.  Cordelia wouldn't understand the compassion she felt for him as a result, taking it only as dirt on Michael and then move on to the next thing.  The deeper meaning behind it wouldn't matter to her. 

*****

That night, for the first time since they started, Mallory slept deeply and peacefully, seemingly vision-free.

Instead, unbeknownst to her, the shadowy presence of the hooded man watched her sleep from afar, pleased with his new strategy on how to make her his.  

 

***************

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from "In the Shadows," by Amy Stroup. 
> 
> *wipes brow* Wow that was a lot to get out in one chapter! So much action and excitement, I hope you guys could keep up! For those wondering, I did my research for Millory's date, and Compere Lapin is a real restaurant in New Orleans, and those are real meals that they serve there (though I had to Google what the hell Scialatielli was and was glad to see that it was just fancy pasta XD). Also, yes, I stole the "You're not alone" lines from Star Wars: The Last Jedi, because if you really think about it, Millory has a lot in common with Reylo. "Darkness rises, and light to meet it," as Snoke says in TLJ. I hope you guys liked each story from both timelines, because I've realized I'm essentially writing two different stories here like they did on the show, and it's a lot to get out! Thank you for being so eager to continue reading this story, and for their constant kudos and delightful comments, they're always appreciated, as well as the amount of bookmarks I seem to be receiving as well, despite how short this still is XD. Love, W.


	5. Girl in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mallory and Michael get to be cute and soft with each other, but it doesn't last long, because forces beyond their control are determined to keep them enemies.

_"Leave me out with the waste, this is not what I do._

_It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you._

_It's the wrong time, with somebody new._

_It's a small crime, and I got no excuse._

_And is that alright, yeah?"_

 

_Then_

"Where _exactly_ are we going, Michael?" Mallory wondered, glancing around.  The last rays of sunshine glinted off the houses that lined the unfamiliar street, and Mallory could feel her senses heighten with fear and caution.  The unfamiliar area was one reason; Michael's shaky driving skills were another. 

"If I told you, that'd ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?" he asked her. 

Mallory made a face. "Yes I know that, but think about the situation here. I'm a witch, in a car alone with a warlock, driving who knows where about to do who knows what.  For all I know you could be planning on murdering me and burying my body in the woods."

Michael snickered slightly. "No need for the dramatics Mallory, you're perfectly safe, I assure you."

"Yeah I know, but I stand by what I said," she stated firmly. 

"Yes okay, you have a point," he relented. "Believe me, you'll like where we end up."

Mallory nodded slowly, feeling herself beginning to relax.  Something in his tone, and his mannerism, convinced her that he meant her no harm. 

It'd been two and a half weeks since her first date with Michael at the Compere Lapin, and this was their fourth date.  For their second and third dates they'd remained around the area, but this was the first time they were going somewhere completely new and far away.  Mallory would be a liar if she didn't admit that despite her concern, she was also quite excited at the prospect of going on an adventure with Michael.  Basically, everything about her time _spent_ with him was exciting.  Since she came to know about his frightened and lonelier side, it made her feel good thinking that her presence was balancing out his darkness with the light she brought. The light of companionship and understanding.  

But the best part about seeing Michael? Even better than the idea of her possibly stopping him from becoming a destructive monster? The fact that ever since the night of their first date, Mallory hadn't had any more visions about the possible Apocalypse and the hooded man determined to end her defiance.  She'd slept peacefully each night both vision and nightmare-free.  She wasn't quite sure yet how the two were connected, but it didn't matter to her.  She was finally getting some decent nights' sleep, and it showed during class.  Her mind was sharper, and in response her magic was stronger, so she was learning things quicker.  The other day in Potions & Elixirs, Misty was teaching the girls how to mix up an antidote for nightshade poisoning, and normally it took Mallory a couple tries to perfect the recipe.  But that day, she'd managed to get all the measurements just right on the first try, and she was the first of the girls to do.  Misty was quick to congratulate her, and Mallory glowed with pride to be singled out like that. All of that because she was sleeping better at night. 

Naturally, the one drawback that came from all of this was having to report to Cordelia afterward.  Sure, it seemed like Mallory barely knew Michael, but after the soul-reading that took place inside Compere Lapin, she felt like she'd come to know the deepest parts of him, thus meaning she did in fact know him. So because of that, every piece of intel she relayed onto Cordelia couldn't help but feel a bit like a betrayal on her part.  But she had no choice, her duty was to the Coven, not Michael. Besides, she'd be a fool to ignore the darkness that was in him.  With each passing day, it grew and expanded like balloon in his heart, slowly overpowering the light that struggled to stay present.

Sooner or later, that balloon was going to pop, and at that point he would be beyond saving. He'd reach the full extent of whatever grim power he'd been given, and Mallory wouldn't stand a chance against him on her own.  Thus, she made sure to remind herself that she was reporting to the Cordelia for the greater good; so that her sisters could be prepared to one day fight him. 

Sighing, Mallory puller herself away from her inner thoughts, and focused instead on the road ahead. But just as she did, Michael (haphazardly) parallel-parked along the side of the road and turned to face her. 

"After you've stepped out the car, I want you to close your eyes," he instructed. That got another eyebrow raise out of Mallory, and he added, "Don't worry Mallory, I swear I haven't taken you out here to murder you."

"Gee thanks, but that doesn't make this any less stranger," she retorted, but as soon as she got out of the car, she closed her eyes anyway and waited for further instruction. 

Soon, she felt one of Michael's hands take her own, and the other one wrap around her waist. An unwelcome shiver of deja vu came over her as she recalled the hooded man from her dreams performing the same gesture, but she told herself to relax. He and Michael had nothing to do with each other. 

Right?

"Alright Mallory, you can start walking forward now," Michael said.

"You're not going to let me fall, right?" she asked. 

"Of course not," he promised. "You can trust me. Do you?"

"I do," she replied, and as she said it, she felt her confidence begin to grow as she realized how true that was.

She trusted him.

Michael didn't reply, though Mallory swore she felt his hand on her waist shake a little. Perhaps he hadn't been expecting her to say that either. 

She began moving forward, and he guided her, slowly and patiently.  He turned her when she needed to turn, and warned each time there was an obstacle in her way, like a tree root or a large rock.  

"Are we almost there?" she wondered. 

"Yep, just up this hill, then I promise you can look," Michael told her.  Mallory felt the ground elevate upwards, and Michael put the hand held hers against her back to balance her. 

After many wobbly steps, Mallory was at last on level ground again, and Michael let go of her.  The warmth on her skin from his touch was suddenly exposed to the cool air that surrounded them.

"Open your eyes now," Michael said. 

She did as he commanded, though once she did, she immediately shielded her eyes against the sun that now shone in her face. 

"Whoops, sorry about that," he said apologetically, and he handed her a pair of black sunglasses. "Okay, now look downwards."

Mallory looked down and gasped. A long blanket decorated with black and white zig-zags had been spread across the grass, and on it, were two white plates, two green cups, and a brown basket. 

"Oh wow, a late afternoon picnic!" she exclaimed. 

"Yep, and in the perfect spot too, so we can watch the sunset," Michael said, gesturing towards the horizon. "Do...do you like it?"

"I do, very much so," she replied.

"Thank goodness," he said. "I enlisted Meade's help in preparing for it, and she had to cancel an important meeting to run to the grocery store." 

At that, Mallory's stomach growled and they both giggled. "Alright then, best we start eating," he exclaimed. 

Mallory sat cross-legged on blanket while Michael began pulling out the food.  She listed them off as he did. 

"Triscuits...sliced cheese...taboule...shrimp with cocktail sauce...pasta salad. Wow, you really came equipped. Certainly some unique choices you got in there," Mallory commented. 

"Meade said that since food is the heart of the picnic, it's important to have variety," Michael said. "She says it makes the activity more interesting. Her words, not mine; picnics have never really been her thing."

"That's fine," Mallory said. 

"Ah, and here's our dessert for afterwards," he said, grinning as he pulled out a small stack of cookies wrapped and tied up in plastic. 

"Are those..." she started, leaning in for a closer look. "Oh my gosh, they are! They're peanut butter-chocolate chip, my favorite! You remembered."

"Yeah, I requested that Meade make them specially for the occasion. She agreed so long as I promised to help. We ended up making two batches, one for the picnic and one to share amongst her co-workers, because Meade in the kitchen is something they almost never see and we needed proof that it happened." 

"Wow, I almost don't want to wait!" Mallory said. "Do you mind if I have one now?"

"Go right ahead, but don't spoil your appetite," Michael replied as he began putting together his portions. 

Mallory took off the gold, frayed twisty that tied the back shut, and plucked the first cookie off stack.  She took a small but hearty bite, and immediately her taste buds were met with the sensation of sweet chocolate and lightly salted peanut butter. 

"How is it?" he wondered eagerly. 

"Amazing," she answered as she chewed. "Send my compliments to Meade when you get home."

"I definitely will," Michael said, smiling. 

"Gosh it's been so long since I've had these," Mallory continued, swallowing, "and even longer since a guy went to so much trouble for me."

"Why, it was no trouble at all Mallory!" he countered, his fork stabbing into a piece of pasta salad. "Besides, even if it was, you'd be worth it."

She smiled and blushed, looking down at the cookie in her hand before meeting his eyes again. "Why are you doing all of this for me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what it is about me that makes you want to impress me so much," Mallory asked, smoothing out the creases on her skirt.

Michael watched her intently, thinking carefully about his answer. He saw her wavy brown hair with the caramel tips, and the decorative gold headband that rested atop it, like the halo of an angel. But the rest of her was draped in smooth, sleek black, from the lace that decorated her shoulders, to the fashionably ripped fringe that no doubt tickled her bare legs. As he watched her, he recalled a lyric from a song that Meade had showed him, called "The Night," by Voltaire. 

_Make the girl in black your bride._

That she would be, because somewhere down the line, Mallory had had a taste of darkness. He wasn't sure how she did, but whatever it was, part of her couldn't help but enjoy it; he could feel it emanating from her.  If he got her to appreciate it as much as she appreciated those cookies he made her, then everything that followed would be that much easier. 

But of course he couldn't tell her all of that, not yet. They were still taking baby steps.

However, Mallory saying she trusted him was a clear sign of progress. 

Finally he said "It was that connection we made at Compere Lapin, remember? I knew there was something special about you when we first met, but that was the moment where I knew I wanted to see and understand much more about you. And in return, you could get to know me as well. See past the dark image Cordelia must've painted of me, and come to know the REAL me." 

Mallory smiled. "So I wasn't the only one who felt a connection that night."

"Yes, I felt it too," he replied. 

"That's good to know," she said softly. "And thank you for your kind words." 

"Of course Mallory." 

They both went silent, turning their attention away from each other to eat and watch the sun as it prepared itself for its impending descent behind the hills. 

Suddenly, Michael's phone began ringing, and he sighed loudly. "It's Meade, she's checking up on me," he said. He grabbed the phone out of his pocket and glanced down at it. "Yep, just as I thought. I'll be sure to tell her that you love the cookies, as well as the fact that she's disturbing the peacefulness of the evening." 

Mallory laughed. "You go do that then, I'll be here waiting." He threw her an appreciative smile and pulled the black hood of his jacket over his head. Then he made his way down the hill, answering Meade's call as he did.

She turned back towards the horizon, not feeling it necessary to try and listen in on their conversation.  And now that she was alone, she started thinking about her visions again.  Being with Michael may have put them to rest, but that didn't make them any less important.  Although she felt compelled to talk about them with him, she knew that was out of the question.  For all she knew, he played a part in them.

_He does Mallory, you know he does._

She knit her eyebrows in confusion, unsure of where that thought suddenly came from.  Shrugging it off, she laid down on the blanket and closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face.  

*****

_She watched the back of Michael's head as he disappeared down the hill,_

_As soon as he was gone, she was thinking of the hooded man from her visions again._

_Several minutes went by, and Mallory suddenly decided to follow him.  She made her way down the hill, where Michael was leaning against a tree, talking quietly on the phone. After a couple of moments, she saw him hang up.  His back was to her, so she came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder._

_"Was Meade glad I liked the cookies?" she asked gently. But when Michael turned around to face her, it wasn't him. It was the hooded man, his shrouded face staring her down with invisible, hungry eyes. And they weren't in the park anymore, they were back in the untouched meadow from her visions._

_"I am not the evil you think I am," he said gently. "Let go of this unfilled life you're living, and I will be with you forever."_

_Despite how familiar his words sounded, his voice was not._

_Because it was not the hooded man's voice that spoke to her, it was Michael Langdon_ _'s._

*****

Mallory woke up with a start, gasping.  No, it couldn't be. But it was.

Michael was the hooded man?! 

She gulped, fear now holding her in its grip. It'd been Michael the whole time. He'd been the one trying to lure her into submitting to him, and therefore, allowing him full access to her power. 

And now she was alone with him in the middle of nowhere. 

How could she be so reckless? For all she knew, those cookies he gave her could be poisoned! 

She scrambled to her feet, and just as she did, she realized that she stupidly allowed Michael to conceal the path they took from the road to the picnic site. Now she had no idea how to get back! 

"Mallory? Is there something wrong?" Michael asked suddenly, making her jump. 

She whirled around and glared at him. "Stay...stay away from me," she exclaimed. 

"Mallory, what's going on? I leave to answer Meade's phone call, and now you're staring me down like a deer caught in the headlights," he said. 

"And who's Meade, huh? Your accomplice? Is she going to help bring about the Apocalypse?" Mallory cried.

Michael seemed stunned for a moment, but kept his composure. "Mallory, you're not making any sense."

"And let me guess, that whole 'saving me' thing, that was a set-up, wasn't it? You did that just to have an excuse to meet me! Because you know it is not YOU who's destined to be the next Supreme, it's me! You're meant to become something much, much worse."

"Mal, please, just relax and we can talk about this," he tried. 

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "I promise you my sisters WILL hear about this, and I will NOT let my visions come to fruition. We will stop you, and the Apocalypse won't be realized! You can be sure of-" 

Her threat was left unfinished, because suddenly, she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

The fingers of Michael's left hand were splayed out at his side, and now  _he_ was the one gasping. He'd managed to knock Mallory out with a simple sleeping charm, and now it was time for him to scan her mind and figure out where the Hell all of this had come from. 

Michael walked over to her, and gently lifted her limp body so she was laying in his arms. Then he closed his eyes, waving his hand over her forehead.

" _Reveal all thoughts from down the line, what was yours will now become mine,_ " he chanted softly, and he said two more times, until he was suddenly seeing Mallory's memories as if they were his own. 

Memory-reading could be a long and drawn-out process, especially when you were looking for something specific. They followed the sequence of when they'd been created, from newest to oldest. Thankfully though, what Michael wanted was at the forefront of Mallory's mind, since it was what she'd been ranting about before he knocked out. 

Up until she had met him, Mallory had been having dark visions about the future. She'd seen herself as the next Supreme in a world ravaged by the Apocalypse, and there was a hooded man who'd been the mastermind behind it all, and his ultimate goal had been to convince her to join him.  She hadn't been having them since Michael had arrived, but while he was on the phone, a vision suddenly came to her, revealing to her that the hooded man WAS Michael, and that was what made her freak out on him before. 

Satisfied with what he'd found, he severed the connection, growing angry. He was so close at this point! They'd connected, and she said she trusted him! Now she was afraid of him, and that alone broke his heart. Even if he repressed the memory of her latest vision (because he wasn't strong enough to completely erase it), he knew she would feel the loss of the memory until it finally broke free from his power. 

For right now, Michael would have to take that chance. And each time he saw her, he may have to subtly re-cast the spell and ensure that vision stayed obscure and unclear. 

He hated to do that to her, because he knew too many repression spells would be drain her energy, but hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. 

Because he had a strong idea about who was behind all this. 

Taking a deep breath, he recited the memory-reading chant again, only this time, once the connection was made, he focused on the one of him being the hooded man. 

" _Repress this memory, make it so. Erase its substance, and don't let it show."_

He watched it disappear from his and Mallory's minds, the memory now covered in an inky black cloud. Sighing with relief, he ended the connection again, and placed Mallory back on the blanket. He walked back to the edge of the hill, and then released her from his spell. 

"Hey there sleepyhead," he said nonchalantly as she sat up.

"Wow, was I asleep?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "I just laid down to get some sun, but I didn't mean to take a nap!"

"No big deal dear, my call with Meade ended up taking longer than I thought it would, so I don't blame you," Michael assured her. "By the way, Meade is pleased that you enjoyed the cookies so much. Because like I said, she's not the cooking-in-the-kitchen type." 

"Well I'm glad I was able to give her more confidence about her cooking skills," Mallory said, then she pointed towards the horizon excitedly. "Look Michael, the sunset is starting!"

"Oh wow, then I got back just in time!" he exclaimed, adjusting his sunglasses and coming over to sit with her. 

He picked up the confidence to place his arm around Mallory's shoulders, and in response, she leaned in and placed her head on his shoulders. 

"Thank you for this Michael, this date has been wonderful," she murmured as she watched the sun seemingly sink into the Earth. 

"You're welcome Mal, it means a lot to know how much you appreciate it," he replied. 

He kept his blue eyes fixed on the sun, and was thankful the sunglasses shielded not just the light, but the grimace forming on his face. This afternoon's occurrence had only been a misstep, nothing more. He'd found a way to work around it. Mallory was his no matter what, and no one could take that away from him. Not the witches, not his father, no one. But it wasn't just about having access to her abilities anymore. He call what he felt for her 'love', per say, because he was sure his brain hadn't been wired for that, but he knew that he cared about her. Strongly.  _Very_ strongly.

He watched the sun disappear and imagined it symbolizing not the end, but the beginning.

The beginning of the Apocalypse, which Mallory so graciously confirmed would happen.

************

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from "9 Crimes" by Damien Rice. The first Millory video I ever watched was paired with this song :).
> 
> SORRY it took so long to update this one. First it was because I was updating some of my older fics. Then I had a good chunk of this done, but I lost it, which bummed me out and I didn't feel like starting over. Then I had a period of time where I didn't have motivation to update ANY of my fics, not just this one. But today I had a burst of inspiration, and the perfect song to have playing as I wrote, and I pushed myself to finally get this done! And I quoted that song in my chapter, it was "The Night," by Voltaire. I feel like this is definitely a song that Michael would listen to, because the personality of the song matches with his. Also I hope you guys enjoyed all the Millory softness in this one, their dates are fun to write about :). Anyway, I already have ideas for the next couple of chapters, so I promise the next update will come much sooner than the last. Thank you for sticking with me, and for the continued support despite my absence. I really appreciate it! ~W.


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